The Profundity of a Partnership
by storyweaver60
Summary: It's been a year since they became captains, but time cannot diminish their bond as friends. Neither man can completely explain the connection they have. This rescue will test the ties they formed as partners. Will those be enough to see it to a safe conclusion? Please review, but be constructive. Anonymous reviews will NOT be kept.
1. Chapter 1

It had poured for three days, buckets, waterfalls of rain at times soaking the soil filling the gutters and roaring through the sewers. The dull drumming dulled the senses like cotton stuffed in the ears. Since yesterday morning, the downpour had stopped. The quiet was thunderous. Large, dark clouds had moved out, but newer ones were gathering. For now, the city welcomed the respite.

Johnny walked out of his place to his Rover jingling the change in his pocket while grasping his keys in the other. Whistling and with a spring in his step, Johnny hung a spare clean uniform on the inside hook over the driver's side passenger door and briskly slid into the driver's seat. With a flick of his wrist, the engine turned over.

A short while later, Captain Gage pulled into the lot at station 110 a full thirty minutes before shift. A far cry from my last minute arrivals at 51 he thought with wry amusement. If I am late now, I'd have to give myself latrine duty. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed the extra uniform and strode to the locker room. The bay was empty. The shift C crew must be out on a run. Hanging the spare uniform in this locker, he checked his hair then smoothed his uniform in the mirror attached to the door. With a snap, he closed the locker door and headed into the mess to make fresh coffee.

It had been over a year now that he had been captain of shift A at station 110. Johnny enjoyed the new responsibilities that came with this job. He'd developed his own style of leadership and melded it with techniques Hank Stanley. His crew was skilled, especially his young engineer, Eric Miller. However, Johnny missed paramedic work, missed the regular contact with the doctors and Dixie at Rampart. Oh he saw them some, but not like before. He chased the gloomy thoughts away with a shake of his head and poured a cup of joe.

The kids' voices rang out through the house. Jennifer needed clean socks and Chris could not locate his school library book. Joanne wiped her hands on the dish rag, rolled her eyes good naturedly, and walked out to deal with the children. Roy smiled at her as she passed by, laid the newspaper aside, and gulped down the last tepid swallow of coffee. Roy heard her chide, "Chris why didn't you put the book with your homework?"

"I read more right before bed and I kinda forgot," Chris admitted with chagrin.

Roy had dealt with a missing history book the day before. He checked his pants pocket for his keys, pulled them out, and called, "Jo, kids I'm going."

Rowdy feet thundered towards him. "Bye Daddy," the two children said as they hugged their father around the waist. Roy kissed the tops of the two heads.

"Love you. See you tomorrow," Roy replied ruffling their hair. "Chris, check under your bed for the book and _next_ time put it with your other school things. Okay son?"

Chris' head dipped down. "Yes Dad."

Joanne shooed them off to breakfast. She paused and hugged her husband tightly. "Have a good shift Captain DeSoto," she murmured in his ear.

Roy pulled her close and pecked her cheek. "Love you Jo. I'll try to call tonight, regular time." He released his wife and left with the scent of her shampoo and the feel of her arms.

He arrived at work early, as usual. He walked into the station and placed his street clothes in his locker alongside his extra uniform. Roy greeted the shift C men warmly and then walked to the captain's office to check in with the current captain on duty.

Roy was a born leader, calm in crisis, even-tempered and skilled as a rescue man, lineman and paramedic. Not a shift had passed that he didn't' miss the paramedic part of the job. That led to thoughts of Johnny. It had been three weeks since they'd been able to get together. Oh, he'd seen him at the captain's meeting at headquarters, but they hadn't had time to talk. Roy smiled as he recalled the easy way the two slipped back into their silent communication of looks and small gestures. Tonight when he called home, he'd ask Joanne about inviting Johnny over for dinner.

Shift A started quite unspectacularly at both stations. At roll call, cautions were given to expect landslide rescues over the next few days. Both captains knew stir crazy citizens would be out and about hiking or biking after three days of rain. Protocols for those types of rescues were review and equipment checked and readied. Klaxons at both stations were mute. Hose was hung, stations gleamed and even paperwork was completed. Bored firemen played cards for match sticks or thumbed through old magazines.

Johnny sat with his third cup of coffee listening in on the different conversations while he pretended to be reading a novel. Not that it was a boring book, he was just antsy. His thoughts drifted to times before he was captain. Times like these he had spent talking with Roy-usually about some girl who'd dumped him. Johnny chuckled to himself and drew the attention of his crew. They had grown quiet just a moment before. His laugh in a silent room had spotlighted him.

"Cap, what's got you smiling?" Al, one of the paramedics, teased. "Perhaps a lady?" Al himself was quite a lady killer and had a different date most days off. His tales of romance were often the talk of the shift. Johnny suspected they were often exaggerated, like many of his and Chet's had been.

Johnny put a twinkle in his eyes. There was **no **way he'd admit he'd been thinking of his former partner and best friend. With age, he learned silence could be louder than any words so he smiled slyly and shrugged. His crew laughed raucously and right before the probing questions started the klaxon blared. With enormous relief Johnny pushed back his chair and rushed to scrawl down the address to a construction site and to acknowledge the call.

Across town at station 36, klaxons interrupted a friendly game of basketball. The men scrambled to the bay, grabbed coats and climbed into vehicles. Roy acknowledged the call and handed off the slip to his paramedics. He rushed to his place in the engine. The call was to a construction site.

Arriving first on scene, Captain Gage jumped out to assess the scene. Greeting him was a half-finished parking lot. Over half was still a muddy bog, just a maze of muddy pits and uncovered drainage culverts, followed by a strip of asphalt and punctuated at the end by another ditch. As he began to take charge of the scene, the second engine pulled up. Seeing the number 36 and his good friend Captain DeSoto caused Johnny's face to soften a bit. Roy jogged over while shrugging on his turn out coat. "Hi partner," Johnny greeted him with a lopsided grin. Roy's eyes met his.

"Junior, so what have we got?" Roy replied placing a hand on his shoulder using his old nickname.

"Patience pally, I was just about to find out," Johnny replied gesturing towards the man hurrying towards them. A man with a construction helmet bustled forward obviously distressed.

"We didn't know about the child until right before we call you," the burly man insisted. His wiry eyebrows jumped up and down as he continued gesturing wildly, "We pulled out three of the kids. It was decided to wait for you all to look for the fourth. Plus the soil in the pit is unstable. Two of the sides have already begun to slide. Before either captain could ask a question, the man ran off motioning for them to follow.

As they loped towards a large muddy ditch with a few potholes filled with water, both captains felt their guts clench in dread. The ditch held the intersection of several smaller culverts which carried run off coming from the drains of the parking lot. This central location funneled that water to a larger culvert leading to the storm drains. Nearby four boys about ten years old stood covered in slick mud.

The construction worker sternly ordered one of the boys to tell what had happened.

"We were just playing in the area. All the water was drained and we were only exploring," he plaintively beseeched. We told Paul to stop, but he just kept crawling on in that pipe," the boy continued pointing to one of the smaller pipes. We heard a loud noise and him yell out for help. He was crying for a while and then there was nothing. These pipes branch out to other ones. I was afraid to go much farther. We might get lost. Finally we came out and told Mr. Small," the boy finished pointing to the large, beefy construction worker. Mr. Small's eyebrows danced again in consternation. It only took a moment to see what needed to be done before they could even consider going down in the pit.

Johnny motioned Eric over. "Eric, you take Ted and Eddie. Work with Mr. Small to shore up the sides of this ditch. The last thing we need is a total collapse and cave in." Eric nodded, turned. He called out to Ted and Eddie and they conferred with Mr. Small. Soon they were moving lumber to stabilize the walls. Johnny then called for a pump to be brought to help remove the liquid mud from the pit.

At the same time Roy stooped down to talk to the boy. "Son, what's your name?" he asked.

"Michael Slayden. This is Doug and that is Jamal," Michael replied timidly pointing to each buddy.

"Okay Michael. Who is in the pipe?" Roy prompted.

"Adam is in there. He's my cousin." he explained hesitantly.

"I see. You boys live around here? Are your parents nearby?"

"You aren't gonna tell them? We'll be in big trouble," Michael moaned.

"I need to know in case Adam needs medical help when we get him out." Roy said kindly. He knew they'd be in trouble too, but hey that whole ship had sailed. "I need you to talk to the police officer over there so they can get permission to help Adam if he is hurt, okay?"

Michael's eyes widened, filled with tears and he nodded solemnly as the officer led him to the side to get the information. Dog and Jamal shuffled forlornly behind adding information as they could.

Walking back towards Johnny, Roy stopped. He studied the scene, eyed the culverts, considered the crew and then gazed back at his former partner. Johnny looked up and their eyes met.

"I know. It's the only way." he replied to Roy's look. "I'll go gear up," Roy nodded in agreement and Johnny sprinted towards the vehicles to gather the gear.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Into the Breech

The sides of the ditch had been reinforced as well as they could. Most of the crew was at least partially covered in a slick film of mud and was panting from their efforts. Doing anything sliding in slick boggy mud made the job three times as hard. Johnny had grabbed a HT, a SCBA, a long length rope, a short length of rope, clipped a paramedic sheath to his belt with scissors, etc…, and slipped a pen light into his pocket. He'd donned a belt and turn outs.

His crew was surprised at first to see him gear up for a rescue. Normally, captains sent others to crawl, rappel or scrabble over things to get to victims. However, it wasn't long before they could see it was the only option. Of all the men of each crew, Johnny was the only one built to fit into the narrow space. He'd turned the control of the scene over to Roy and placed Eric in charge of the 110 crew. The only other man on the scene besides the two captains that didn't seem surprised Gage was going in was Chet. He'd joined station 36 as a lineman. Chet just carried on as if nothing was amiss. When he saw the others' surprise, he just shrugged and gave a small smile before continuing his duties.

Men in both crews watched in fascination as they witnessed the looks or monosyllables the two captains used to prepare. Well, except Chet. He'd seen it before. No biggie.

"So…?" Johnny asked.

Roy motioned over to a pile of 12 x 8's with his head and some large pieces of plywood. Johnny's eyes followed the motion and nodded.

Both men pictured the beam across the ditch, ends resting on large pieces of plywood, in their heads equalizing the weight so the sides had less stress. They could see Johnny straddle it, scoot out and then use it to be lowered from.

"Not sure though," Roy countered glancing the pile of supplies.

"Yeah, I know," Johnny said as he buckled the belt.

Johnny looked at the SCBA. He knew Roy was unhappy that he might not get to wear it due to the small space he was crawling into. It wasn't like he was tickled pink about it. He couldn't change what had to be done.

Roy asked Chet to grab a board from the pile while the others were still catching up. "Where exactly Cap?"

Roy pointed. "As soon as Trey and Ted place those large pieces of plywood as bases for the ends, lay it across the pit opening starting there and ending there -to distribute what little weight Captain Gage has," he stated pointing before adding the quip. Chet smiled broadly.

"Guess _some_ people never get it," he teased as he passed Johnny. Ted and Trey hurried to place the flat plywood as instructed. Eddie stepped forward to help.

Johnny grimaced, rolled his eyes before smirking. "Kelly, Kelly," he chided, "Over compensating just makes you look _so_ pathetic." Their eyes met and they both chuckled.

Eric smiled realizing he was peering into the past.

Gage walked over to the huddle of boys and squatted down. He gave them his charmer smile. "Fellas, tell me about when you heard the noise. What exactly did it sound like?"

Doug answered, "I don't know mister; it was just loud." Johnny nodded hiding his frustration behind a thoughtful look.

"Did it last a long time? Sound like a car engine revving?" he probed.

"No, it was pretty quick," Jamal replied. "I could feel it in my feet too." The other boys nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I did too," Michael and Doug said in turn.

"Sir, it acutally kinda cracked or snapped like that big whip the lion tamer used at the circus, but lots louder," inserted Michael.

"Good, boys that is helpful," Johnny told them encouragingly. "One more thing, did you smell anything?"

The boys' faces scrunched up in thought. One by one they shook their heads. "No, no," they echoed, "Nothing, just the mud like before."

Johnny smiled at the boys. 'Thanks fellas. That was a big help. Now stay back. We'll find Adam, okay?"

He sloshed back through the boggy mess, his turnout pants cuffs were already caked with slip and getting heavy. Roy had heard the boys' comments from his position even though he had been continuing to prepare for the rescue.

Johnny's eyes met Roy's and both men looked grim. "I heard," was Roy's only comment. The comment about the cracking sound with the smell was obvious to them both.

"I am good at the backstroke, pally," Johnny returned glibly as he strapped on his helmet and looped one end of the longer rope in the carbineer on his belt. The other end was manned by Eddie, Trey and Ted.

Cautiously lowering himself to his knees, he inched out on the board like a cat on the top of a fence. Once clearing the ground, he delicately eased down until his legs dangled on either side and then gingerly progressed out to the middle. "Kelly, you'd better have picked a splinter-less board," Johnny clowned and then seconds later he yelped. Kelly's face blanched and his head snapped up. "Just kidding, Chet," he called out with a smirk.

"Jerk," Chet muttered hiding relief. The rest of the crew snorted as did the few construction workers and patrol officers gathered around. He glanced over at Roy to confirm that he'd broken the tension. Roy just gave him a bogus exasperated glance followed by a hint of a smirk. Inside Johnny was quaking. This rescue wasn't a joking matter. Although he was glad he didn't have to send one of his or Roy's crew in, it didn't mean he was thrilled to be going himself. He was getting too old for this crap.

Roy read Johnny's jest as nerves. For Johnny nerves often equaled goofiness, maybe not as much now as it had those years before. Of course, Johnny would always be a bit goofy. It was part of his appeal, his charm. His crack had lightened the dark mood that always came along with a child rescue. If what he suspected were true, it might just be a recovery.

Deftly, Johnny tied the shorter length of rope to the board and hooked his belt onto it. He slipped on his gloves. As a young firefighter, he'd often gotten in a rush and forgotten them. Not today he thought. "Ready," he called gripping the rope with his covered hands.

The longer rope was used to stabilize his descent while Johnny lowered himself into the muck. Upon reaching the bottom he unhooked from the shorter rope with which he'd lowered himself. However the other line would be his lifeline, his umbilical back out. He double checked it being sure he was securely tethered. The SCBA was lowered down while Johnny squatted down to get a gander at the culvert he was about to enter. Now that there was some comparison between the opening and Gage, Roy furrowed his brow in dismay.

"Roy," Johnny called up, "I can't fit with the SCBA on my back. No way, but..." he was cut off by an order from Roy who had come to the same conclusion.

"Carl," Roy ordered, "Get the reel of air hose. Trey, bring the rest of the equipment that goes with it." Eric stepped up to take Trey's place on the tether line. Johnny nodded once with satisfaction that Roy was of the same mind.

While waiting, Johnny sent the SCBA back up and used his flashlight to peer into the cement duct. "It goes back about 20 feet and then curves off to the right. I don't see the boy yet," he reported.

In a few minutes Johnny had fitted the air mask securely to his face with his air supply pumped from above. Normally being tethered to the unit with an air hose was restrictive, but this way he had good air and could take it in to the victim, if he ended up needing it. It was a plus that the bulk of the tank wasn't there to prevent him from crawling into the tube.

Kneeling down, he entered the culvert. Slithering in, Johnny found the farther back he went, the more he encountered a carpet of thin, watery mud. Reaching the bend, he looked to the right seeing what he hoped he wouldn't.

"Johnny, how's it look?" Roy radioed knowing that he must have been able to make it to the bend.

"Just like we thought Roy," Johnny replied compressing the HT button between quiet grunts of effort speaking over hiss of the air mask. He couldn't quite hide the concern in his tone. In front of him, Johnny saw two small legs protruding from a large mass of sodden soil.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Moving Heaven and Earth

Johnny's heart felt like a stone as he inched forward and reached for one of the small tennis shoes. Please God, please he silently pleaded. He steeled himself as he pulled off his heavy gloves, started to check for a pulse in the ankle, and startled when the legs moved at his touch. "The boy is alive. He moved when I touched his leg," Johnny almost yelled into the HT. "I can now hear muffled talking, but am unable to make out what he is saying." The HT was laid aside so Johnny's hands were free.

Roy instructed his paramedics get the bio phone and contact Rampart. "Can you get a pulse, Johnny?" he inquired.

"Hang on," Johnny answered as he snatched up the HT, spitting out a quick answer and continued taking a pulse. "Pulse 100, and his legs are moving. I don't see any obvious wounds. This mud is cold, so hypothermia is a factor. We need to figure a way to get him out as quickly as possible. I can't tell how big the defect in the culvert is. The mud is obstructing my view. Every time I start to dig, more mud comes in." He had been delicately working to move mud and quickly discovered that it was fruitless.

"Okay Johnny, we're gonna have to come to you. Try to keep the boy calm," Roy related through the HT. "Eric and Trey get the men organized with shovels," he ordered as he walked. "First we start digging here. Pipes are about four or five feet down fellas so be careful as you get that deep. Sounds like we have a defective culvert and there's no way of knowing exactly where the defect starts or ends. The boy is pinned in by mud, but is alive."

The firefighters moved with quickly but cautiously, energized by the report they were rescuing not recovering. The going was slow since the soil was saturated and lifting it was arduous. The men alternated digging every 15-20 minutes to keep the pace as brisk as possible. Heavy equipment was kept away. The ground was unstable the last thing they needed was vibrations from a backhoe or large truck to cause a pile to slide back into the hole and possibly damage the pipe further and bury the boy and Johnny.

Johnny meanwhile tried his best to communicate with the boy. Finally they were able to work out a system. Johnny would call out a simple two or three word question and the boy would bump his foot once against the pipe for yes and twice for no. After several minutes, he was able to tell that the boy was cold, could move his arms and was having trouble breathing due to pressure on his back. He did his best to reassure the boy during the long wait to be rescued. "Roy, Adam is having problems breathing due to pressure on his back. I think it may be from the mud, but until we get him out there is no way to tell for sure. He is awake and can move his arms. He is complaining he is cold as well. His pulse is still 100," Johnny reported. The information was relayed to Rampart.

It was almost two hours before they could move enough dirt to reach the pipe. As soon as the break through happened, communicate was able to be made directly without using the HT. "Johnny?" Roy called out, "You are going to need to remove the dirt you can reach for us. Your biggest issue will be where to put it, Junior," Roy finished.

"We need to hurry Roy, Adam is less responsive than before," Johnny voice sounded calm, but the cadence told Roy things were deteriorating quickly. Almost immediately, they could hear the soft scrape of Johnny's hands removing mud. He flung it as far as he could behind him. It slapped against the sides of the culvert. I'll worry about it later Johnny thought to himself, his focus on the boy. As he worked he saw the amount of the debris he was lobbing back wasn't copious. Above ground, the men could hear Johnny's muffled ongoing dialog with the boy. "Adam, we're almost there buddy. Soon you'll be outta here. What a story you'll have to tell your friends, huh? Move your arms Adam, it will help warm you up. Tell me again about your dog. Your mom really lets him sleep with you? Adam? Buddy? Move your legs Adam, move 'em for me pal. Yeah, just like that. Keep it up. Adam? You promised to show me your fort. I am looking forward to seeing it." They didn't hear any replies from Adam. His foot taps had pretty much ceased now. Johnny worked faster.

It was a triumphant moment with Johnny's long fingered but muddy hand waved through a six inch jagged hole at the upper left side of the pipe. "Sheesh, Gage," Chet remarked with humor, "Don't you ever wear your gloves?"

"Hard to take a pulse on with gloves, Kelly, duh," came the muffled reply with mock sarcasm. Chet smiled.

"Whatever, wonder boy," Chet retorted. He didn't see Johnny's smirk.

"Roy," Johnny called out, "He's free from the middle of the back down. His pulse is way down, but his breathing is a little less labored. I've dug as much mud out as I can reach from here."

"Can you pull him free?" Roy inquired, "We could then extract him either by you pulling him out to the pipe entrance or by enlarging the defect and lifting him out."

"If I pull, I could injure him more. I don't know if there are back, neck or head injuries, and I can't actually check from here," Johnny admitted. "He did know where he was and how he got here from our exchanges. He didn't complain of pain at first, but his trouble breathing had him pretty panicked, Roy. In our last exchange, he did start complaining of pain in his back when I was moving mud off of him. It will take more time to enlarge the hole and dig him out which would be better if he has those injuries. Time equals more exposure."

Roy's face twisted with the puzzle. "What's his pulse?"

"Just took it again. It's back up to sixty, but it's not as strong," Johnny replied. "It was down to fifty. I'd say we have maybe four or five inches of body wedged in with mud. He indicated his arms are free and so is his head. He needs to get warmed up."

Roy turned ordering, "We need four blankets, hand two down through the opening to Johnny now. The other two place on the dash of the squad and put the defrost on as hot as you can. Warm 'em up and bring them as soon as you can." Chet took the two blankets and after folding the plastic covered package in half, poked them through the hole one at a time."

"Johnny, we are getting warmed blankets for you. Use these first. I'm enlarging the hole," Roy explained through the HT.

Johnny nodded, then grimaced since Roy wasn't able to see his action. "Got it, I could use a BP cuff." He understood they were going with caution. Chet's had appeared holding the cuff.

"Here Gage," Chet stated gently waving the equipment in order to get his attention. Johnny grabbed it.

"Thanks, Chet." It was silent for a bit. "BP is 102 over 67, pulse 63, and respirations 15, Roy," Johnny reported using the HT. He'd already spread one blanket out over the top of the boy and the other placed between the boy's body and the cement. He rubbed the boy's legs to increase circulation and warmth. The paramedic mode came roaring back

"Johnny?" Chet called out. "Here are the warmed blankets. You need anything else?"

"Leg room? Cuppa Joe?" he quipped. Chet just smiled and coughed out a short laugh. I'm worried too he though.

"Hand up the old blankets and we can warm them too, if you like," Chet offered. Johnny switched out the blankets using the excuse to stretch his upper back and arms. He couldn't do much for his legs or lower back, yet. He listened to the constant scrape of shovels as they moved the mud, bit by bit.

"Good idea, Chet," Johnny replied handing back the first set of blankets.

Richard and Al had communicated new information they had and the vitals with Rampart. "Set up an IV, normal saline and monitor his vitals. Send a new report in 15 minutes. Check for head injuries as soon as you can," the voice of Dr. Brackett ordered. "Will do, Rampart. Captain Gage is with the victim, doctor. He'll need to set up the IV or it will have to wait."

Dr. Brackett's face registered surprise and then sported a smile and his head bobbed. "His certification is up to date…I'll take responsibility for him starting the IV." He looked at Dixie who smiled back. Damn straight he will she thought. He's one of the best paramedics ever. She patted his arm and smiled as she returned to the nurse's station.

"10-4 Rampart," Al answered. Richard was already grabbing the needed supplies in order to get them to his captain. He handed it down to Chet.

"John, Dr. Brackett wants an IV started. He said he'd take responsibility for you starting it," Chet relayed. Johnny smiled and nodded as he took the familiar tubing, tape, and bag.

"Chet, I need sterile gloves. My hands are too muddy to put in an IV," he said. Gloves appeared almost as soon as he asked along with a clean rag. "Roy thought you might," Chet explained.

He wiped off most of the mud. Gloves donned, he swiftly started the IV all the while talking to Adam. As he inserted the needed, he noted the leg moved and was glad. Response was good. He taped it in place and then handed the bag up where it was hung on a piece of rebar Roy had asked to be set up just for that purpose. They had been able to clear mud from the pipe so they could see the defect. A crack ran both directions from the breech. It had widened closer to the boy's head. They had cleared enough ground to one side for two men to stand. Johnny's HT crackled to life. "Johnny, we are ready to start breaking through. It's gonna get loud."

"Adam, we are going to enlarge the hole so we can lift you out," Johnny coached. "It's gonna get a bit loud, but it will help you get outta here. Keep your face towards the bottom of the tube and your eyes closed, pal." His only answer was a groan. Johnny was glad since it was more than he had been getting. At least now, they could hear each other. The report of carefully measured hammer blows followed by the crunch of crumbling cement filled the air. In thirty minutes, Adam had been unearthed, placed on a backboard and lifted carefully from his trap. He was conscious, but after his head was visible, the large contusion on his temple was obvious. Adam was also complaining his chest hurt. Bruised or cracked ribs were suspected. The pressure from the mud must have been off the charts.

"Roy?" Johnny called out. "I'm heading back to the opening. Using the gap they made to save Adam, Johnny was able to turn around to get out face first the same way he came in. He slipped on his air mask; it was easier than carrying it. Slipping on his heavy gloves, he started back towards the entrance. Huh, I didn't see that branch as I came he thought, as he spotted another culvert heading off in another direction just ahead.

The crew had climbed out of the pit they'd dug and were awaiting Johnny's emergence from the other end of the cement tube. Work had restarted on the site. Roy had told them they could work on the other side of the lot, but to wait to restart on this side until they had left. In error one man sent a large semi with a flatbed rumbling towards an empty spot to deliver some needed materials. It headed in their direction. Roy looked up and began to yell. "Hey! Stop!" he shouted waving his arms to get the driver's attention. It was too late. The vibrations in the ground shook the saturated soil. Sides of the recently dug hole began to slide back. Roy grabbed his HT. "Johnny move it! Now!" He had no way to know if Johnny was able to react. As soon as the words were out mud slid into the gap as the sides of the hole collapsed. The very hole that saved the boy was now spelling doom for Johnny. In seconds, the pipe was reburied. Roy anxiously ran to the opening looking for Johnny. All that greeted him was a forceful stream of mud and a half buried HT. The air tube was still threaded into the culvert.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 The Torment of Hope

Roy's brain froze for a moment and a wave of horror washed over him. Just for a second he thought I wonder what Cap will say and then… I'm Cap he thought. He looked up at 20 pairs of eyes looking at him for direction. Where to start? How to start? He hadn't yet faced an emergency of this magnitude involving a fellow firefighter as captain of a crew. Johnny he thought wildly I gotta help Johnny! He remembered Captain Stanley and the poise he always displayed as he dealt with all the rescues gone wrong he and Johnny had faced as partners at 51. Was this what he had felt? He never exhibited it. Roy's face didn't betray all whirl pooling thoughts and emotions. All of it happened within a few seconds. To the men, he just looked like he was mentally planning, in deep concentration. Well, Chet might have suspected Roy was much more upset than he showed. Chet had witnessed their partnership, the entire partnership. He knew how close the men were and how fiercely they fought to protect each other. In truth, Chet was fighting his own panic. He needed to do something, to act. He looked to his captain.

"Eric," Roy stated with unruffled authority, "I want you and your crew to check the entrance. What's in there besides the HT? I need that information." Eric barked out orders. He wished he could be the trapped one with his captain out here instead. All he could do now was his best at the job with which Captain Gage had entrusted him. Eddie used a pole to probe gently for a body, helmet or other items before the men lowered Ted to begin digging. "Trey, set up a digging crew at the breach and then I want you to man the air pump. I need to know if you think anyone is getting that air. Junior, Roy thought if I ever needed you to pull a trick out of the hat it's now. He pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair in a motion reminiscent of his best friend.

Roy turned sharply to the closest construction worker. "I don't know what idiot allowed any large equipment near this part of the lot, but I want to talk to the foreman, now!" The man looked up from watching the digging in surprise almost dislodging his yellow hard hat. "NOW!" Roy replied with enough bite to turn the crew's heads in surprise. Chet winced not from surprise but in sympathy for his captain and friend. Roy wasn't one to get worked up very often. It wasn't long before the foreman was hustling towards the group his bushy eyebrows dancing in worry and anger. Roy strode out to meet him. Not one of the crew could hear what was said, but Roy's body language told the story. He ripped into the man and by the time their Captain walked back to them they were surprised to see the foreman still able to walk. His eyebrows most likely had whiplash from all the wild movements they'd performed. Rarely had any of station 36 seen Roy that worked up.

In turn the foreman, barked into his walkie talkie. "What damned fool let that truck in? I said to close the west gate!" he growled heatedly. "We now have a fireman trapped and in peril because of someone's mistake. Get the gate closed and secured this instant!" Mr. Small finished his face red with rage making his black bushy eyebrows knitted with fury more visible . "Captain, since this portion of pipes are buried, I'll get the plans and we can figure out how to best proceed," Foreman Small offered, "Anything we have is at your disposal." Roy nodded his agreement and the stocky man placed a hand on his shoulder in apology, then hurried off to find the needed papers.

Eddie walked to Roy to report. "Cap, I checked the entire pit. I only found the HT. No hat, no gloves, no air mask, and no, uh…no Captain Gage. Nothing. He's still in the culvert…somewhere," Eddie detailed, his voice cracking with emotion. The culvert opening was completely clogged with mud. It was hard to envision his captain in there. He was trying to just focus on the task at hand and not think too much about it.

"Thanks Eddie, that's helpful. The foreman is bringing back schematics for the drainage system. I need those as soon as they come," Roy ordered trying to hide his growing anxiety.

"Absolutely!" he answered. Eddie pictured his lively, energetic captain with his crooked grin. I need to keep busy he thought. As he lumbered off through the muddy lot towards the small mobile office to retrieve the blueprints, he ran through some of the tales his captain had told of the many close shaves he and Roy had survived. It gave him hope this might be another good tale. Wanting to do more, Eddie pushed to think of anything else he might do to help. A table to lay out the plans on would be good Eddie reasoned and decided to request one.

Eric motioned Roy over. "Cap, the air hose seems anchored inside the culvert. Do you think he is wearing the air mask?" It was a long shot, but it was possible the mask might have kept out the mud. It was less wet than when they had begun the first rescue. Most of that moisture had been pumped far from rescue site. That made the likelihood of the mask repelling most of the mud higher. Of course, the mask could have been discarded at the bottom of the culvert and encased in mud. Eric pushed that thought away.

Brad, one of engine 36's linemen and Chet were gingerly and industriously re-excavating the rescue pit. Chet had rounded up some plywood and boards for bracing. Another collapse was not happening Chet thought resolutely. Eric took over for Ted at the entrance to give him a rest. Ted clambered up from the pit and collapsed breathing heavily. He hadn't wanted to stop, but Eric was fresher and could dig faster, at least for now. They'd only cleared about 4 feet into the tube. The farther in you went the deeper the mud had been.

Roy had been thinking through what Johnny might have done. He'd seen him pop up through the hole they'd pulled Adam from to turn around and exit out of a more stable opening. He tried desperately to picture what he'd seen. Roy had been focused on getting the boy out to safety along with the men down in the pit. He felt guilt for not paying more attention to Johnny. He was responsible for his safety, as captain in charge. Johnny had given him that job when he'd gone in to rescue the boy. Focus Roy he warned himself. Yes, he thought John had his helmet in his hand as he ducked into the tube turned back from where he'd come, but he had not noted the air mask. Most likely he'd set it aside as he'd worked on Adam, even giving the boy air. It's what he would have done in his place. Trying to envision being in the cement tube he went through step by step the actions Johnny might have taken. He would have had to army crawl using his elbows to move. With the helmet on, Johnny would have been almost flattened to the bottom of the culvert as he moved. He must have worn the helmet since there would be no other way to get it out. Holding the mask would have been awkward and would have restricted movement. If he'd left it there and crawled out the air hose wouldn't have blocked his exit. It would have been easy to just pull it out using the hose afterward Roy reasoned. Or putting it on would have worked as well. That would guarantee no loss of equipment. Getting out wasn't being done in a hurry, not at first so it made sense to just wear it. Without the collapse Trey would have taken up any slack in the hose he noticed as Johnny moved towards the opening. Johnny would be facing towards way he came in. At least he wouldn't have been facing the racing wave of mud that had filled the drainage tubes. God, he prayed, please _please_ let him have worn that mask. Any real chance of a rescue ,and not a recovery, really rested on Johnny having the air the mask could deliver.

Trey continued to monitor the air pump hooked to the air hose. According to the gauges, air was getting through. The hose wasn't kinked or blocked. Where the air was being pumped was a total guess. To Captain Gage, to an empty mask or through a hole in the hose were all possibilities. I hope it is to Gage, he thought.

Eddie came back with a card table under one arm and a roll of paper under the other. He flushed when Captain DeSoto complimented him. "Good idea, Eddie. Good thinking," Roy remarked with genuine gratitude as Eddie deftly set up the table. He pulled a couple chunks of cement he'd picked up from the ground and handed them to Roy.

"Paperweights," he offered with a shrug.

Roy clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Johnny told me all about his crew, how good you all were, how proud he is to be your captain. He said the others didn't always give you enough credit, Eddie. He's right," Eddie smiled shyly and was glad to hear his captain appreciated his ability and glad Captain DeSoto said 'is' and not 'was'. He was often the butt of pranks and teased for being dense rather than naïve of the seedier side of the world. With a quick nod, Eddie turned away to see who needed a rest. He needed take out his fear on the mud with a shovel.

Roy carefully studied the diagram placing one finger where Johnny had entered and the other where the breach had occurred. His eyes ran from one point to the other taking the curve in the pipe. It was about twelve feet from the entrance to the curve and then another 8 feet to the breach. His heart jumped in his chest. "Eric! You need to see this," he called out with urgency.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Rock and a Hard Place

Johnny began to crawl back out to the opening he entered through. The thin film of cold mud on the bottom coated his gloves and made him glad he'd taken time to slip them on. Cap would have been glad he thought. Huh, he thought, I didn't see that branch from the other direction as he spotted another culvert heading off in another direction ahead. That passage was a bit narrower than the one he was crawling through. Now _THAT_ would be a tight fit, he thought as he continued to crawl back to the opening. He could feel the cold beginning to take its toll. Gripping the HT in his left hand he worked his way back out. Just as he was even with the branch he heard Roy call out loudly. In an instant he felt the vibrations and knew the rescue pit must have begun to collapse. He had yet to make the turn in the bend. A slide of mud might just press him against the curve and trap him there. Johnny lunged to the left. He'd swept his right arm over his head from behind and knocked his helmet off and onto the bottom of the smaller tube in front of him right before he heaved the top of his body into the passage. The helmet with its white stripe lay just inches from the top of his head. The wall of frigid mud hit him as he wedged his head and right shoulder into the secondary culvert by pulling with his right arm. A thin film of watery mud seeped in around him and pooled below him. About two inches settled beneath his form.

Johnny felt a groundswell of panic and took three breaths to calm himself. Take stock Gage he told himself. Air was flowing into the mask, good that's excellent he thought. The tube was threaded up by his neck above his left shoulder and then back into the muddy clog. Air was the main concern along with keeping his face from being encased in muck. The air mask wasn't air tight. He then took stock of his physical condition: shoulders' not dislocated, left arm cramped but uninjured, right arm pinned tightly by a wall of soggy dirt, no pain in his back, hips or legs as of now. However, the weight of the soil on his body was immense. It was hard to tell if his ribs were okay or not. The weight was hindering his ability to take deep breaths. Poor kid, I know how he felt now thought Johnny. Johnny was actually claustrophobic unless he was on a rescue. The situation was really getting to him. I hope it doesn't keep clamping down like a vise Johnny started to think. Stop that, positive, Gage, it won't do that he insisted to himself. Your crew is above and they are good, no _excellent_ at their jobs. 36's crew was under Roy's command. Johnny had heard they were excellent as well. Chet was great in a pinch. AND I've got the finest captain above me to get me out he assured himself, Roy. His trust in his best friend and former partner was unflappable. Roy had yet to fail him and Johnny knew he would do whatever it took to get him out. I just gotta do my part and stay alive.

Minutes ticked by like hours. Johnny was normally an active fella so being immobilized was difficult. Never did like spelunking he admitted sourly. Caves, who needs 'em? It didn't help that his body was angled off to the left. No amount of effort was effective to move his legs or left arm. He checked his watch, but the watch's face was coated in grim. He rubbed enough off by scrubbing it against his hair to read the time, 11:23 a.m. and his stomach rumbled. Great, that is just super he groused. Of course he'd skipped many meals over the years and he knew he'd survive, but it was another discomfort to ignore. He strained his ears and thought he could make out faint scraping noises like a blade of a shovel might make against wet, gritty soil.

Johnny thought of his best friend just feet above him. Roy must be frantic he thought. I know I'd be. 'Course Roy would look calm, but underneath he'd be fighting racing thoughts and worst case scenarios. He'd isolate himself from emotional support, which made this type of situation worse for him. I wonder if his men know that about him? That he just doesn't lose control. Well hardly ever loses control. Chet knows, he thought. Chet will be there. Funny thing, Johnny pondered, that Chet might do something that comforts me. Johnny huffed. Now Gage he reproved himself Chet isn't all bad, just annoying at times. Damn, he felt for his friend and wished he could somehow make it easier for Roy. He couldn't of course. Roy was a big boy and would get through it. The only thing he'd do to show his feelings is crack a huge grin when he finally reaches me here. Wryly Johnny thought he'll probably call me Junior. Right now being called Junior sounded awfully good.

Wish I had an HT flitted through his mind. I could know the plan or that they know I'm okay. Johnny thought of the other times he'd been trapped, like that cave in with the hurt man when his HT had been buried. At least there he'd had movement, a job to do and then a way to communicate with the crew above. He'd dug furiously until it had been unearthed. Maybe I could use ESP he thought wryly. Yeah, use psychic powers. He laughed out loud. His laugh echoed. He checked his watch again, 11:26 a.m. For cryin' out loud could time go any slower? Okay he thought here goes, he thought as loudly as he could. Roy, Roy? I'm alive. Air is getting to me, pally. I'm right at the bend in the culvert, partner. Relax man, and dig faster, okay? Other thoughts overrode his ESP experiment. This sludge is bone chilling cold. He wished he could move around to warm up. As an afterthought, he rapped on the pipe but being cement, the sound didn't carry. The gloves protected his knuckles from damage. His head dropped and rested on his arm and he waited. No mental message came back from Roy. Guess I don't have ESP he despaired. He chuckled blackly.

A wave of cramping hit him about 15 minutes later. The odd angle in which he was wedged had taxed his muscles. He was unable to move at all to alleviate the pain. "Holy Crap!" he yelled out. That was followed by various grunts, yelps and a few obscenities. It finally abated. "Okay," he said aloud to himself, "Okay, that was just peachy." The only upside was the pain had temporarily distracted him from the cold. The icy temperature from the mire had seeped through his gloves, turn out coat, and pants. He knew he was heading for hypothermia soon. Shivering would be a signal. So far so good he supposed. He rolled his neck a bit and flexed the one arm he could before again resting his forehead on his forearm.

I've got to figure out a way to signal them I am conscious he lamented. Tapping on the pipe was useless. Maybe kicking it would be better, but he didn't have use of his feet. He spotted his helmet and grabbed it. Slamming it against the sides of the culvert made more sound than his gloved knuckles but it wasn't enough. The muting qualities of the tons of mud would negate any sound traveling to the surface. Yelling won't work any better. His mind spun for a bit in circles. How could he signal them? Dang I wish I had my HT he thought for the millionth time.

Johnny let his mind drift to his time as partner with Roy. He remembered the call where he'd ended up hit in the face with the liberated girdle. Roy'd never told about the girdle flying into his face, not once. Chet would have pounced on any shred of that tale for sure and he'd never ever mentioned it. He wished he could remember how they'd logged it. Well, Roy probably told JoAnne, but he didn't mind that. JoAnne probably got a real hoot outta that tale. It made him chuckle thinking about how she might have reacted. Roy hadn't even teased him about it when they were alone. He continued to mentally flip through some of their goofier calls. The lady who kept having kitchen mishaps, and the poor unfortunate fella stuck in the sofa bed. Oh man, the girl with her toe in the tub faucet! He'd hightailed it outta that bathroom so fast, he figured he'd left the floor smoking from the friction of his shoes. He chuffed. Man, if Chet had EVER gotten ahold of that story, he'd _never_ have heard the end of it. He could only begin to imagine all the put downs and snide comments Kelly could have dreamed up. She'd been pretty too, and it made Johnny feel self-conscious. Roy's face had flushed, but he'd sucked it up and got her free. Neither man said a word about it after. Just loaded up the squad and called in their availability. The talk had been so general so banal that he couldn't recall what it had been about. The only important thing was that they didn't talk about his reaction at the scene. At least it had been at that time. I wonder what happened in the bathroom to Roy to zip his lips so tightly? Man, he could think of several scenarios. Maybe just helping me save face? The bubbles had dissipated from the water? Sloshing water revealed a bit more than it needed to expose? Maybe she'd kissed him out of gratitude? Maybe it had been nothing more than what had propelled Johnny out of the room? Roy would have never said, even if Johnny had asked him at the time. He'd learned the 'keep your trap shut' trick from the many years as Roy's partner and friend. He then remembered how Cap and Roy had kept their mouths shut about the go go dancing club ladies. They'd been in bikinis for sure, but could any of them look more bored? Sheesh. Yeah, maybe a couple were _kinda_ pretty, but those girls weren't Johnny's thing anyway. The look of sheer desperation on Chet's face to hear the lurid details had been so sweet. I could have sipped it up in a straw Johnny remembered with relish. Roy'd even gone along with the few veiled and vague comments he'd made to Chet about the club to just twist the knife so to speak. Johnny smiled. He liked Chet, trusted him, but Chet could be a pest. Revenge for all the water bombs was sweet that time. Yep, ole Roy was a solid guy for sure. Had he ever thanked for being so discreet all those times? Probably had, but he couldn't remember for sure. He needed to be sure he had.

"Air hose, air hose!" he yelled out suddenly. The compressor had a gauge on it. If he pinched it closed and let up open again, the needle would jump. It would jump quickly if he pinched it for a short time and it would move up and hold for a second if he pinched it for a longer time. "I can use Morse Code to let them know I'm okay," Johnny stated aloud to himself. If both hands had been free, he would have rubbed them together. He was really feeling the cold. Now was the time to get it done. He knew his ability to think clearly and rationally was slipping away. Johnny planned out the message to send needed information and added one bit so they knew it was a real message from him.

Using short and long squeezes he sent the message three times. Dash, dash, dash,(O) Dash, dot, dash, (K) dot, dot, dot, dot (H) Dot, dash (A) Dot, dot, dot, dash (V),Dot(E)Dash, dot,(A)Dot,dot,(I)Dot, dash, dot,(R)Dash, dot, dash, dot (C) Dash, dash, dash (O)Dot, dash, dot, dot(L) Dash, dot, dot (D)Dot, dash(A)Dash(T)Dash, dot, dot, dot (B) Dot(E) Dash, dot (N) ,Dash, dot, dot, (D,) Dash, dash, dash (O) Dot, dot, dash, dot (F) dot, dash, dash, dot (P) Dot, dot (I) Dot, dash, dash, dot (P) Dot (E) Dot, dash, dash (W)Dot, dot, dot, dot (H)Dot (E) Dash, dot (N) Dot, dot (I) Dot, dot, dot (S) Dot, dash, dot, dot (L) Dot, dot, dash(U)Dash, dot(N) Dash, dot, dash, dot(C), Dot, dot, dot, dot(H). The last part would clinch in their minds it was him and he smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Glimmer of Hope

Eric walked over to the schematics where Roy was riveted with excitement. "Here!" Roy gestured with excitement as he traced the culvert Johnny had climbed in and then stopped tapping the spot.

Immediately Eric saw it. The branching culvert right after the bend in the culvert Johnny had entered and he felt a jolt in his stomach. "Do you think it is too small?" he asked voicing the obvious concern. Eric had heard stories about his captain regarding his many scrapes and how he'd always found a way out, but he had always wondered if they were exaggerated. Maybe this was one of the missing pieces—his former partner, Roy. Captain DeSoto was highly regarded in the department. His quiet, calm demeanor wasn't the normal type of personality you found in a former rescue man. Rescue men were in his experience well more extraverts and had a bit of bravado. His skill as both a rescue firefighter and a paramedic were well established. Captain Gage never had a disparaging comment to make about Roy, ever. In fact, Eric had never heard anything but glowing comments about Captain DeSoto from anyone.

Roy grimaced. "Johnny has this crazy way of surviving and I am counting on it again this time." he paused. "Actually, I think his head would definitely fit, maybe a bit more. Even with the helmet, he may have used it to escape the collapse. What do you think, shall we start the search near there? It's about 13 feet from the entrance and about 8 feet from the breach." Eric nodded and hope blossomed where emptiness had been. The two formulated a plan.

During the entire time since the collapse, Chet had been digging at the entry point. He'd refused any respite. Sweat poured down his face and his shoulders and upper back screamed for relief, but Chet toiled on. The mud was pretty water-logged and all he could think was how it was watery enough to seep in the air mask Johnny was wearing. Damn it Gage he though turning his worry to anger to fuel his digging. You'd better be okay. The strain of the boggy mess snapped the shovel handle. "Hell! I need another shovel!" Chet barked out. "Now!" Carl handed a fresh one down and took the snapped handle. Chet kept the blade thinking he could use it in a more controlled way when digging closer to Johnny.

"I can take a turn, Kelly," he offered knowing he must be exhausted.

Chet answered sharply, more sharply than he meant to, "No, I'm fine Carl. Just 'cause I'm _older_ than you doesn't mean I'm a wuss." Carl wasn't upset, much. He knew that Chet had worked with Gage and DeSoto. If it had been one of Carl's former shift mates from 86, he wouldn't have stopped either. Instead, he procured a couple more buckets and tied ropes to them to haul up more mud as Chet dug it out. In one of the buckets, Carl placed a couple of rags for Chet to use to wipe off the perspiration. Chet stopped long enough to look up and salute with a rag and use it to wipe his face and neck before tucking it inside his pocket and beginning again to dig.

Trey's voice cut into the scrape of shovels and squawk of calls over HT's. "Cap! I got something you gotta see!"

Roy loped over to Trey where he was manning the air compressor. He caught the urgency in Trey's voice. Eric followed after anchoring down the schematics. "Cap, I'm not sure what is up, but the flow is being interrupted," Trey explained pointing to the needle as it jumped. Trey, Eric and Roy watched the gauge in silence for a moment. "It's not really any pattern. It doesn't seem completely random either," Trey continued, "But it's not a fluke either. Since it's not an established pattern, I don't think it's a leak."

Roy leaned in watching intently, his eyes grew wide, and then he barked out, "William, get out your pen and notepad, now!" William scrambled to comply wondering what was going on as he fumbled for his pen and pad in his shirt pocket. Roy started calling out letters adding, "Write them down for crying out loud!"

After about six letters Eric starting laughing, "Morse Code; It's Morse Code?" he said incredulously. Captain Gage never ceased to amaze him. How did he ever think of that? Eric clapped Trey on the shoulder gratefully.

Kelly looked up from digging after hearing all the conversation, jammed the blade into the ground below his feet and leaned on the handle. Chet's mud spattered face cracked into a grin and he muttered, "Gage, you _are_ ingenious." Then he called up, "Carl, take over for a bit will ya?"

In a few minutes, they had the entire message. They had missed part the first time, but when it was repeated, they got it all. Roy's whole demeanor changed as he read it aloud. Eddie turned away closing his eyes in relief. He had truly feared for his captain. Chet burst out laughing. "I'll buy him any damn thing he wants for lunch."

Roy slapped Trey on the back and gave him a flicker of a smile. "Great catch Trey. Keep watching for anymore communication, okay?" Trey nodded with his eyes riveted on the gauge. He was glad to see his own captain looking more hopeful.

Men were split into teams along with construction workers who volunteered to help. Three groups were formed. One would excavate from the entrance after cutting into the culvert about 6 feet up. The other would begin at the breech and work up that culvert slowly looking for the bottom half of Captain Gage. A smaller group was going to be in charge of moving all dirt and debris far from the pits and shore up those areas to prevent collapse. By cutting in a ways, collapse of the original pits was moot since an already plugged tube would block any rush of mud.

"We simply cannot afford another collapse on our new digging," Roy stated resolutely. "The biggest issue now is hypothermia. The cold can really complicate Johnny's medical condition and time is our enemy," he finished. The four paramedics on scene had already been mentally calculating all they might need to do to stabilize the trapped captain. Roy didn't mention that Johnny may have aspirated mud or had other injuries. The force of the collapse may have broken bones. He didn't have to since all the firefighters had already had those same thoughts flit through their minds. We're coming Junior, he thought knowing Johnny couldn't hear.

After an hour of using cement saws and sledge hammers, the men were digging in earnest. Johnny thought he had heard the whine of saws or the thump of blow, but the dirt pressing in all around him dulled any sound and made his world as silent as a tomb. He shook off that morbid thought. Johnny was violently shivering. It felt pretty strange since he was encased on mud except for his head, neck and one shoulder. The helmet on his head and his air mask rattled against the culvert. That is a crazy beat; I give it a 79 Dick Johnny thought thinking of Bandstand. "But it's very hard to dance to," he muttered aloud. "Course anything is hard to dance to when your trapped in a coffin of mud," he said sourly, "And shivering spastically." His skin crawled from the perspiration that had dried. At least he hoped it was that and not some creepy crawlies.

He'd long ago run out of date planning ideas and had moved to planning hiking trips which he had also exhausted. He'd mentally rearranged his apartment several times and had even tried to remember and alphabetize the names of all the women he'd dated since becoming a paramedic. It worried him he was becoming confused. He kept forgetting the order of the alphabet and was worried he might have dropped off to sleep once or twice. Roy, buddy, I could really use you now Johnny thought wearily. Just as he started to doze off another wave of body cramps hit him. His face twisted in agony. "Son of a b-," he spat. Good news is I'll not go to sleep he quipped mentally and rolled his eyes at his own lame joke.

The next hour of digging and hauling mud crawled by. The initial burst of adrenaline was waning and all the men were feeling the effects of the difficult digging. When Eddie called out, "I got the bottom of a shoe, Eric!" all the men got their second wind. They pushed aside the thought that it was so still.


End file.
